Nine Months
by Lady Midath
Summary: Nine months can be a life time.


Disclaimer:I do not own any of these characters,  
they are owned by Brendon Small and Tommy Blacha.  
No profit is being made.

**Nine Months**

"Nine months you bastard...nine fucking months."

Charles sighed inwardly, he was tired and in no mood to deal with one of Nathan's tantrums right now. Usually when the lead vocalist and band's front man lost his temper, Charles was able to deal with it in his usual efficient way and calm him down. But this time it was different. Nathan was angry and hurting, and with good reason. As far as he was concerned, their manager, their trusted friend had abandoned them. To Nathan, it was the ultimate betrayal.

At first the other members of the band had been angry and suspicious, but then the sheer joy of seeing Charles alive soon changed that. Suddenly they were all clamouring over each other, asking questions, demanding explanations, all wanting his attention.

In fact Toki had been so overwhelmed, he had practically flung himself into Charles arms, tears streaming down his cheeks. Skwisaar had finally managed to extricate the overjoyed Norwegian from their manager, before launching into his own furious demands for answers.

It had been a couple of hours of sheer chaos before Charles had managed to restore anything resembling order. And with the promise of explanations and offers of liberal amounts of Tequila, he gently ushered the boys, his boys, out of his office. They had left reluctantly, Murderface grumbling under his breath and Pickles still complaining that he didn't know what 'the feck waz goin' awn dood'.

That left Nathan. Except for his initial outburst, he had been silent. A bad sign, Charles could see all the pent up rage building in the front man's rigid stance and his dark moody face.

Now Nathan was standing beside him, his huge hands curling into fists at his side. The same fists that had floored Damien so nicely. Charles could not help but wonder if one of those fists were going to end up smashing into his own jaw. He sincerely hoped not, because as well as he was able to hold himself in a fight; the last thing he wanted to do was get into a brawl with a man who he truly cared about. A man that meant more to him than anyone.

"Nine months...no word, nothing."

"Nathan," Charles began, his voice low but clear. "I know that you are angry with me right now and I don't blame you. But you have to believe me when I say this. There is a good reason for everything. And when the time is right, I will tell you all why I did what I did."

Nathan pondered this a for a moment, looking not at Charles, but out of the window. It was almost as if Nathan could not bear to look at the man that had caused him so much anguish.

"Please Nathan, you have to understand, I had my reasons." Charles continued, he lifted his hand to touch the bigger man's arm, then thought better of it. He could see that Nathan was churning with emotions that he could barely handle. Anything now, any gesture no matter how small could unleash a torrent of sheer fury that would without doubt leave them both battered and bleeding.

Nathan turned his head towards him, strands of black hair swinging across his face.

"We...uh, they needed you, the band...needed you." He gestured helplessly, words failing him. Nathan had never been very good at expressing himself and now he was finding himself increasingly frustrated. Why was it that he could write the world's most brutal lyrics but now, when he truly needed to make Charles understand how he was feeling, he was completely at a loss at how to do so.

Suddenly he wanted to throw back his head and scream. Just howl out all the pain and misery that he had suffered over the past nine months. Nine months spent trying to hold the band together, trying to manage their finances and rebuild Mordhaus. Nine months of caring for a grief stricken Norwegian and a increasingly withdrawn Swede. Nine months of trying to stop Murderface from alienating absolutely everyone that crossed his path and nine months of helplessly watching Pickles numb himself with every substance in existence both legal and illegal.

Nine months of having to be both leader and carer, of having to constantly put aside his own grief so that his band, his family did not completely fall to pieces.

"I know Nathan," Charles spoke gently, his eyes meeting the bigger man's own hard glittering gaze. "It wasn't easy having to leave you and the rest of the boys for so long. In fact, it was probably the hardest thing that I've ever had to do."

Nathan was silent as he digested this. Charles stood beside him waiting patiently, his hands at his sides. One of two things were going to happen. Either Nathan would forgive him and they would slowly get back to whatever passed as normal in this place. Or the slow simmering anger would erupt with full volcano force. But no matter which way it went, Charles would deal with it because that's what he did.

Suddenly the manager felt a heavy hand land on his shoulder and a feeling of utter relief washed over him. So there was to be no further violence today. Charles smiled a little as he sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenwards.

Then without a word, Nathan turned and left the office, closing the door behind him. Charles sighed, it was obvious that there was going to be a lot of bridge building to do with Nathan. But that was going to have to wait for now, until he could be sure that the boys were safe.

FINIS


End file.
